


Vows

by AKO



Series: Detectives [4]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alpha Centauri - Freeform, Ex Lovers, M/M, Mental Illness, Murder, Torture, bondmates, family traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 06:53:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17055221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKO/pseuds/AKO
Summary: Kirk and Spock are Starfleet; however, Kirk has never gone Command track.  Instead, he was recruited by Military Intelligence directly from the Academy and now works for Starfleet's version of NCIS.  Spock used to be an instructor at Starfleet Academy, and now also works at the same place.  They are a detective team stationed on Alpha Centauri.Leonard McCoy is the physician heading up Starfleet’s Forensic Services and Medical Examiner Department on Alpha Centauri.This has been written for an old livejournal K/S Advent contest, and is “inspired” by one of the prompts..  I wanted to use my AU detectives and therefore, the quality of the writing isn't up to my usual standards. I do apologize for that.And as always, I have TOS in my head when I write my stories, but if you close one eye and tip your head, it can be viewed as Abramsverse. Uh, without the destruction of Vulcan or loss of Amanda.





	Vows

"So what do you want to do for Winter Holiday, Spock?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Whaaaa?”

 

“Vulcan celebrates no such event.”

 

“But you’re half-human.  Your mother doesn’t celebrate Winter Holiday?”

 

“The first year following my parents’ bonding, my mother went ‘all-out,’ as the saying goes.  My father was displeased.  Each year thereafter, her celebratory actions became less and less.  For the most part, her method of marking the event is to give me a very small token gift.  I, myself, do nothing to commemorate the occasion.”

 

Kirk shook his head.  “Wait a minute!  How long have we known each other?  I’ve seen you at Holiday parties!  I gave you something, what, two years ago?  And last year we exchanged gifts.  Don’t tell me you don’t celebrate!”

 

“Jim…”  Spock raised both eyebrows.  “Attendance at Federation festivities is ‘encouraged’ by Administration; you know this.  I like my career.  I wish to further myself in Starfleet.   _Ergo,_  I attend Holiday parties.”

 

“Hmpf.  Okay, that explains the parties, what about the presents?”

 

“The giving and receiving of gifts between us is more about our relationship and its development than any particular event.”

 

Kirk’s face fell.  “That’s cold, Spock.”  He turned, and walked away, saying, “I’m going to bed.  Do what you want to do.”

 

When Spock entered their bedroom later, he found Kirk near the edge of the bed, turned away from Spock’s side.  He was either sleeping, or pretending to do so.

 

The next morning, Kirk rose before Spock—a rare thing!—and left early for work.  When Spock entered their office later, he found Kirk behind his desk, engrossed in the computer.

 

Kirk didn’t look up when Spock entered the room.  “I’m doing the end-of-year reports,” he told the display.

 

Spock knew Kirk well enough to leave him alone.  Jim had to work through his ‘anger’ all by himself.

 

Later that day, their office comm unit signaled.  Kirk was still hunched over his computer, and he did a brushing-off motion to Spock.

 

Spock raised one eyebrow as he answered the call.  When he finished, he stood at his desk and pocketed his personal datapadd.  “Detective, we have a case.”

 

“Whatever.”  Kirk shut down his computer and the two left together. 

 

As they rode to the Medical Examiner’s facility, Spock gave a summation of the assignment.  “Two prior murders have occurred in the White Chapel area on the North Side.  Now a third has been reported, and it is believed the three share a commonality.  Doctor McCoy is presently performing the autopsy; he also examined the previous victims.  He will explain his findings with us.”

 

“Fine.”  Kirk didn’t feel like conversation today.

 

They walked into the autopsy room together, and stood before McCoy.  Kirk looked at Spock and deliberately stepped to the side, putting distance between them.

 

McCoy raised one eyebrow at Spock.  “You got cooties today, Spock?”

 

“I have never been contaminated with personal vermin, Doctor.”

 

“Trouble in Marital Paradise?”

 

“Just get on with the case, Bones,” Kirk grumbled.

 

“Oooo-kay.  Well, your patrol officers in the White Chapel precinct are on their collective toes.  We have now a total of three gentlemen who have been guests of my establishment, and it sure looks like they’re all connected.”

 

Spock spoke up.  “White Chapel is a low-income, high-density residential area, often replete with illicit gambling, illegal drugs, and unlicensed sex workers.”

 

“Yeah.  It’s been put forth that the three unfortunates fell into the last category, and all ran afoul of someone with a serious grudge against their profession.”  He pulled back the drape covering the body on the table.  “You can see the personal, gender-specific mutilation.”

 

The individual had been butchered.  The portion of his face which had been bearded was completely skinned, as was his chest and pubic area.  And the external genitalia were hacked away.  “Notice the ragged wound edges.  A serrated blade was used, and the removal was done with a sawing motion.”

 

Kirk clapped a hand over his mouth and ran out of the room.  “First time  _that’s_  ever happened,” muttered McCoy.

 

Spock said, “Excuse me, Doctor,” and quickly followed Kirk.

 

Kirk entered a conference room and Spock slipped in after him.   Thinking himself alone, Jim was hunched over with both hands plastered to his face.  He jumped when Spock laid fingertips on his shoulder.

 

“Jim.”

 

“Oh, Spock.”  Kirk spun around and pressed his head against Spock’s chest.  Spock said nothing and held his bondmate close.

 

Later, when Kirk stopped shaking, they sat on a table edge and put their arms around each other.  “I’m sorry, Spock, for everything.”

 

“What is troubling you right now?”

 

“They were targeted because they were gay.”

 

“Most likely.  Or for prostituting themselves, but their activities were presumably homosexual.”

 

Kirk inhaled a long, shuddering breath.  “When I was in high school, I figured out that I liked both girls and boys.  It was no big deal to me, but in a rural area like Riverside, Iowa, gays aren’t exactly welcome.  Guys who were overtly gay were targeted.”  He wiped a hand over his face.  “One kid almost died.”  Kirk swallowed.  “I didn’t say anything, or do anything one way or the other.  I acted like it happened to somebody else.  Until they almost killed that kid.”

 

He pulled away, and looked in Spock’s eyes.  “He and I had been dating.  I went to go see him in the hospital.  He was unconscious, and so bruised and banged up, I didn’t even recognize him.  And all I could think, was, ‘That could have been  _me_.’  I was scared, and ashamed—not ashamed of dating him, but ashamed that I had done nothing to prevent the beating, the bullying!  And then I got angry.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

Kirk smiled, a tight, little, vicious smile.  “I got arrested.   _After_  I met up with each of the attackers and busted their nuts.”  He looked down to the floor.  “I always wondered if I prevented any of them from siring children.”  His eyes went back to Spock’s.  “Following my adjudication in juvenile court, my mother sent me to Tarsus IV.”

 

Spock stood in front of Kirk, pulled Kirk to his feet, and enfolded him gently into his arms.  “Jim.  I regret you having to revisit such pain.”

 

“No, I needed a kick in the ego right now.  I finally figured out why I went off on you yesterday, and it was nonsense.”

 

“Whatever concerns you is not foolish.”

 

“Compared to that guy flayed open on the autopsy table, it is!”

 

Kirk pulled himself together, and they returned to the autopsy suite.  McCoy finished his summation of the most recent victim, and promised to forward the files of the other two victims to their computers.

 

# # #

 

In the  _après_ -sex glow, Kirk settled himself in Spock’s arms and explained his Winter Holiday situation.  “You couldn’t have known.  I rarely talk about it.”  He nestled his head in the crook of Spock’s neck, letting that warm Vulcan body heat envelop him.  “My entire childhood wasn’t all bad.  One of the few good memories I have was when my grandmother, was still alive.  Mom would dump us at her house right before Thanksgiving, and pick up any off-planet assignment just to get away—from me, from the holidays, from the memories.”  Kirk ran his hand over Spock’s shoulder and arm.  “So Sam and I got to spend some time with Grandma Kirk, and we loved it.  We loved her.  She was in a more rural part of Iowa than Riverside, if you can imagine such a thing.  She had the big, old, creaky farmhouse, with stairs, cellar, and attic, she cooked old-fashioned foods, and she believed 100% in Christmas, because she believed in celebrating the birth of her Savior.” 

 

Kirk shook his head a little, and continued.  “She decorated that house from top to bottom, as well as the front porch and even had us crawl up and put stuff on the roof.  I’m talking about Christmas trees, Santa’s workshop, elves, a sleigh, eight regular reindeer, and one with a red nose that was named ‘Rudolph,’ a manger, Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, shepherds, wise men, camels, sheep, donkeys, a huge, light-up star.   Oh, and there was an Advent calendar filled with little candies, and numbered doors.  Each day of December, we’d open one little door before we went to bed, to count down the days until Christmas.  I loved that bit of sweetness on my tongue as I fell asleep each night.”

 

Kirk rolled onto his back, with his arms tucked behind his head, and smiled at the ceiling.  “Then, on Christmas morning, we would sneak down the stairs and look under the tree to see what Santa had brought us!  We weren’t allowed to touch anything yet, but oh, the excitement and the anticipation were almost too much to bear!  Grandma would finally wake up, and take us to the kitchen for a quick breakfast while she prepared the turkey and stuck it in the oven.  Then we’d all get dressed and go to church for a special Christmas service.  Sam and I really didn’t understand what was going on, but we did know everyone was happy and nice and cheerful.  We didn’t like going to church with Grandma, except on Christmas morning. 

 

“Anyway, afterwards, we’d come home to a wonderful-smelling house, and Grandma would finally let us open our presents.  The living room would be filled with toys and clothes and torn up paper and shredded ribbons and beat-up boxes, and Grandma would take us into the kitchen and we’d sit down to the best meal ever, of turkey and potatoes and stuffing and gravy.  We ate until we were ready to pop, and then we’d go back to the living room to play with our toys.”  Kirk’s face softened, recalling the memories.

 

“We only did that for a few years, until Mom married Frank.  Grandma Kirk died about the same time.   And life was different afterwards.”

 

Spock cradled his mate’s face in his hands and kissed him tenderly.  “So you just tucked those memories away?”

 

“I had to.  Whenever I allowed myself to look back and relive those times, I’d end up breaking things, screaming, yelling, punching the walls, anything to vent my anger over the fact that I’d never experience that again.”

 

“Understandable, Jim.”

 

Kirk turned to his side, facing Spock.  “See, you and I have a home together now.  I haven’t really had a home, a real home, since those holidays with my grandmother.  And I guess somehow I figured that we needed to celebrate Christmas.”  He buried his face in Spock’s chest.  “Which was really  _stupid_.  And blowing up at you because of my disappointment was more than illogical.”

 

“That is an erroneous conclusion, Jim.  We are created from the sum total of our life experiences.  You have had some unfortunate ones, even some terrible ones, especially in your formative years.  Yet everything has made you into the brilliant, compassionate, and sensitive person you are today.  And that is the one I cherish above all others.”

 

# # #

 

“Okay, let’s get to work on these murders.”  They were seated at their desks at work the next morning, discussing the new case.

 

“Obviously, an association can be implied between these victims and the historical murders of the notorious ‘Jack the Ripper.’  The primary link, of course, is the coincidence of the area names: Jack the Ripper operated in the Whitechapel area of London, at the end of the nineteenth century on Earth; our perpetrator is performing in the White Chapel area of Alpha Centauri.”

 

Kirk nodded.  “Second point of coincidence:   Both sets of victims are alleged prostitutes.”

 

“Major difference: female in the historical event, male in the current one.”  Spock tapped his datapadd to check off the point.

 

“Doctor McCoy would emphasize,” Kirk said while pointing his index finger at the ceiling, “that a blade was used in all cases.  I gotta conclude that this is clearly a copycat crime.”

 

“I concur.”

 

The office comm rang, and Spock picked it up.  “Spock here.”  A voice ordered the detectives to report to the Commandant’s office.

 

Moments later, they were ushered into a plush suite with huge windows overlooking the busy spaceport.  A man wearing an expensive suit stared out at the busy scene, his hands locked behind his back.

 

“Sir,” Spock stated.

 

He turned to face them.  “Ah, the Dynamic Duo.  You’ve received the White Chapel murders case.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” Spock continued to speak for the two of them.

 

The superior sat at his huge desk, but gave no signal for Kirk and Spock to take the chairs near them.  Kirk did his best to not roll his eyes at the power play.  “Well, you are fortunate, indeed.  We just so happen to have a Federation Bureau of Investigation Behavioral Specialist on-planet.  She will be joining your team.  Plus, the Vulcan Ambassador is arriving tomorrow, and his transport will also be carrying an Interspecies Analytic Specialist from the Vulcan Sciences Institute to add to your little party.  Pull on your diplomatic boots, Boys, and play nice with these individuals.  Oh, and solve the damn murders, too.  That’s an order.”

 

Kirk and Spock barely had a chance to glance at each other out of the corners of their eyes before Commandant Komack grabbed his datapadd and began to sign forms.

 

They had been dismissed.

 

Back in their office, Kirk looked for something on his desktop to throw.  He settled for a stylus, and arrowed it like a lance so it actually punctured the wall and vibrated viciously.  “Not only were we kicked out like two mongrels who had crapped on the rug in front of him, we also got clobbered with Feebs!”

 

“The scientist from VSI is not a Federation employee.”

 

“Dammit, you know what I mean!”

 

“I do.  And I assure you, I am displeased as well.”

 

“We barely got the case, and now we’re getting superseded!”

 

Spock sat behind his desk, and steepled his fingertips in front of his face.  “Apparently, the Federation Bureau of Investigation Behavioral Scientist presently here on Alpha Centauri is merely a fortuitous coincidence.”

 

“Fortuitous for who?”

 

“Whom.”

 

Kirk flipped his hand.  “Eh, whatever.”

 

“I must confess curiosity as to the identity of the Vulcan Science Institute specialist.”

 

“Yeah, what’s the deal with that?  I’d think Vulcan wouldn’t have serial murders, therefore the need for any kind of Behavioral Scientist would be superfluous.”

 

“I doubt the individual from VSI is a behaviorist.  He or she must possess another type of specialty.”

 

A tall, blonde Human female dressed in an exquisitely-well-made suit strode into their office.  “I’m looking for Detectives Kirk and Spock.”

 

Kirk, nearest the door, stood, smiled his megawatt charmer, and extended his hand.  “I’m Detective Jim Kirk,” he said, and gave a nod towards Spock, who also stood at his desk.  “That is Detective Spock.”  Spock locked his hands behind his back and nodded in response.

 

The woman clasped Kirk’s hand and shook it firmly.  “Elizabeth Dehner, Federation Bureau of Investigation.  Commandant Komack directed me to you two.”

 

Kirk’s smile lost a lot of its wattage.  “We only learned of the FBI’s involvement this morning, Ms Dehner…”

 

“DOCTOR Dehner.”

 

“Excuse me, DOCTOR Dehner…”

 

“I was on-planet, and came directly to Starfleet Criminal Investigation Department after learning of the connected cases.  As the Chief of the Federation Bureau of Investigation’s Behavioral Studies, I have published papers concluding that such spree killings can only increase in number and severity.  Therefore, I reported to Commandant Komack and offered my services so as to intervene expeditiously to identify and apprehend this killer.”

 

“I see.  Well, we have just begun compiling the similarities in the crimes…”

 

“Detective, no offense to your skills, but as an expert in this particular field, I can most certainly ascertain the similarities and the differences, and make comparisons to past crimes which will give us a profile of the perpetrator.  The sooner we get that profile, the sooner this butcher can be stopped!”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow.  Kirk bristled.

 

Kirk took a deep breath, and exhaled to the count of ten.  “Yes, Doctor.  What may we do to assist you as you apply your expertise?”

 

“I’ll need an office, a computer, access to all files of evidence, an administrative assistant, a team of crime scene investigators, and a direct link for subspace communications.  My colleague from Vulcan will most likely need a complete duplicate of everything I have requested.  She will be here tomorrow evening, at the latest.  By the way, her name is T’Pring.”

 

Kirk felt, rather than saw, his bondmate tighten every single muscle in his body.  “Right.  Well, Doctor, please get yourself a cup of coffee from the replicator, and Spock and I will see about finding everything you and Doctor T’Pring need.”

 

Dehner made a face as she walked to the refreshment unit.  “I suppose standard replicator coffee will do for now, but make sure the unit in my office is programmed for dark roast Sumatra blend.  And T’Pring’s will need Vulcan  _l’kash_  tea.”

 

“ _L’kosh_  tea,” Spock corrected Dehner’s pronunciation.  “It shall be as you wish.”

 

Kirk and Spock vanished immediately from their office and all but ran down the hallway to Administration.  “Christ, she’s a Doberman Pinscher!  We’re headed for the field after we get everything in motion, right?”

 

Spock just stared.

 

“Spock?  You don’t look very good.”

 

“Jim.  T’Pring…T’Pring is…T’Pring  _was_ …”

 

“Oh, shit, she’s your ex!”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Correction, we’re not going out in the field: we’re headed for DS4 to dust the whole station for fingerprints, the old-fashioned way.  Shouldn’t take longer than six or seven Standard months…”

 

Spock’s personal comm unit signaled from his pocket.  He pulled it out, looked at the caller ID, and moved away from Kirk to take the call.  When he returned, his face was pale and tight.

 

“Now what?”

 

“I believe the Terran saying is, ‘From the frying pan into the fire.’”  Spock inhaled and exhaled slowly.  “My father has informed me that he is the Vulcan ambassador presently en route to Alpha Centauri for the Federation Winter Holiday festivities.  The business leaders’ coalition wishes to present Vulcan with some award, in an effort to promote more marketing opportunities with the Vulcan population.  And my mother is accompanying him.”

 

“I think I’m getting a migraine.”

 

“I believe I may be suffering my very first migraine.”

 

# # #

 

The next day, Kirk and Spock came in to work early and verified the two offices were ready for the new consultants, and that the individual replicators were stocked with the appropriate refreshments.

 

They were soon to find out the results of their efforts.

 

“This is a hovel!  And you scrounged the furniture from a recycle bin, right?  Please tell me you at least got the coffee I ordered!”  Elizabeth Dehner stepped over to the replicator and requested her beverage.  She took a sip and closed her eyes.  “It’s not the best Sumatra roast, but it will have to do, I guess.”

 

Spock looked at Kirk and raised an eyebrow.  Kirk simply shrugged in reply.

 

“You two can return to your detective-y stuff, and I shall begin work on my behavioral modeling analysis.  Shoo!”

 

Both men knew when they had been dismissed.  They headed for their office, where they closed and locked the door.  Kirk exhaled with a “whoof” as Spock encased him in a crushing hug.  He didn’t have time to blink before Spock’s mouth covered his and performed a breath-stealing kiss.  Then just as quickly, Spock dropped his arms and took a step back.

 

“Huh?”  Kirk looked dazed.

 

“Still angry?”

 

“Hmm.  About what?”

 

“My distraction worked.”

 

“Oh, yes.  Absolutely.  Perfectly.”

 

“It worked for me as well.  That woman is beyond irritating.”  Spock sat down behind his desk and pulled out his datapadd.  “The Ambassador’s transport shall arrive at 1400 hours.”

 

“How about this: we meet the transport, you take your folks to our guest suite, and I’ll escort T’Pring here and get her settled.”

 

“Jim, you need not shield me from T’Pring.”

 

“I’m not.  Well, okay, I am a little bit.  But really, Spock, it’s fine.  Spend a little time with your parents, show them our place, and then we can meet up for a family dinner.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

T’Pring was shorter than Kirk, dressed in a traditional Vulcan robe, and very, very beautiful.  She also exuded frostbite.  Kirk properly greeted her by offering a  _ta’al,_ and said “ _Dif-tor heh smusma_.”  She responded with her own  _ta’al_  and gave the customary reply.  After several failed starts at conversation, Kirk left her alone for the remainder of the aircar ride to the station.  Once they arrived, Kirk showed her the office set up for her use.

 

“Detective, I had no need for a complete office.  I am capable of working anywhere.”

 

“Doctor Dehner requested offices for each of you.  She also asked that your replicator be stocked with your favorite  _l’kosh_  tea.”

 

T’Pring turned around and faced Kirk with a raised eyebrow.  “Odd.”

 

Kirk drew his head back in response.  “Why do you say that?”

 

“I have never met Doctor Dehner.  If we actually knew one another, she would know I prefer any other tea than  _l’kosh_.”

 

“What do you prefer,  _T’Kehr_?”

 

T’Pring almost smiled at Kirk’s usage of the honorific title.  “ _Bhin_  tea.”

 

“I will stock your replicator momentarily.  We have a supply of that tea here in the building.”  Kirk walked a few steps in the office, then turned to T’Pring.  “ _T’Kehr_ , you’ve never worked with Doctor Dehner before?”

 

“No.  We have exchanged a few electronic messages, and I have read all her published articles, but we have never been colleagues.  My work is statistical, hers is primarily psychological analysis.”

 

“Okay.  You have our comm codes if you need anything.  Shall I accompany you to your hotel, while you check in?”

 

“Please, Detective, I am not an invalid.  Go on about your business, and I will meet with everyone tomorrow morning for the conference at zero-nine-hundred hours.”

 

Kirk suppressed a smirk, and nodded.  “[ _Amsetri tre_](http://www.starbase-10.de/vld/main.php?cmd=details&id=10132),  _T’Kehr_.”  He offered a  _ta’al_ , and left.

 

After stocking T’Pring’s replicator with the correct tea, Kirk headed home to meet up with Spock and “the in-laws.”  He adored Amanda, and was only a little bit scared of Sarek.

 

Spock looked uncomfortable.  Sarek looked authoritative.  And Amanda could only be adorable.  Kirk walked up to Sarek, offered him a  _ta’al_ , and said, “I greet you, father of my mate.”

 

Sarek responded with a  _ta’al_ , saying, “I also greet thee, mate of my son.”

 

Kirk moved to Amanda and smiled.  She grabbed him in a bear hug and kissed his cheek.  “Jim!  Thank you for sharing your lovely home with us!”

 

“It’s good to see you, Amanda.  I’m glad you’re both here.”

 

“So where are your Christmas decorations, Jim?”

 

Kirk flashed a stunned look at Spock, who merely raised an eyebrow.  With an abashed face, Kirk turned back to Amanda and said, “We haven’t gotten any yet…”

 

“Lovely!  I’ll take on that job myself!”

 

“Don’t go to any trouble, Amanda, please.”

 

“No trouble at all!  You two share a home now, and it’s important to establish and maintain holiday traditions!”

 

Later that night in bed, Kirk tried to apologize to Spock.  “She just rolled right over me, Spock.  I couldn’t stop her!”

 

“You would have more success with halting a supernova, Jim, than thwarting my mother when it comes to her plans.”

 

“It looks like you’re getting Winter Holiday whether you want it or not.”

 

“Let my mother enjoy her shopping.”

 

“The least I can do is apologize sincerely…”

 

“ _JIM!_ ”

 

Both were grateful the guest suite was soundproofed.

 

The following morning, the two detectives and the two consultants met around a conference table, each with his or her own beverage of preference.

 

“I’m ranking here, so I’ll start this meeting.”  Collective eyebrows were raised, and facial expressions were conveniently hidden by raised cups.  Dehner used a laser pointer to emphasize her bullet points on a chart displayed on the wall.  “Behavioral analysis of data collected on the three victims shows that we are probably looking for a very angry male.  The victims have all been human, and the unknown subject will be human as well.  So, if there is such a thing as ‘typical,’ this guy meets the criteria: loner, poor relationship with women, probably menial job, the triad in childhood.  Alpha Centauri being a transport hub, we could find these murders on other planets, as well.”

 

“Where have you factored in the White Chapel association?” asked Spock.

 

“Coincidental.  Our unsub is likely a resident of the low income housing.”

 

“You find no connection of White Chapel and the victims all being prostitutes?”

 

“Detective Spock.  That word is not appropriate.  The term we will use in this task force shall be ‘unlicensed sex worker.’”

 

“Be that as it may, you want to disregard any historical affiliation the unknown subject may have with his victims?”

 

“I don’t feel it is a major contributing factor, Detective.  This isn’t a history professor we’re talking about!

 

“Doctor Dehner.”  T’Pring dropped her datapadd onto the table with an audible thunk.

 

“Yes, Doctor T’Pring?”

 

“I will need to see the raw data you used to reach your behavioral model.  These factors Detective Spock mentioned can greatly influence the accuracy of your analysis.”

 

“They are inconsequential.  I have been doing these analyses for years now.”

 

“I respect your experience, Doctor Dehner.  However, the Federation Bureau of Investigation specifically requested my participation in this task force, and I need your data in order to comply with their request.”

 

Dehner rolled her eyes.  “Very well.  I’ll transfer the files to your padd.”  She tapped her datapadd several times and smiled without sincerity.  “You now have them.”  Then she focused on Kirk and Spock.  “While Doctor T’Pring is playing with her numbers, we can discuss the next step.  Even though there have only been three victims, the time between murders is decreasing.  I postulate the pressure of the upcoming Winter Holiday season will compel the unsub to murder again, soon…and he will even be prepared for the next victim right afterwards.”

 

T’Pring raised her hand slightly.  “Doctor Dehner.  I apologize for the interruption, but three events do not permit you to make a valid assumption, statistically speaking.”

 

“My postulation is based on the psychological aspects, Doctor, not the statistical one.”

 

“Understood.  But I must interject that your analysis is purely subjective, and cannot be validated by statistics at this time.”

 

“Doctor.   _Thank you_.”  Kirk and Spock expected to see steam shooting from Dehner’s ears.  Then the woman turned full-force to the detectives.  “Based on my  _professional psychological_  analysis, the best approach would be to use a decoy.”

 

“Dispatch to Detective Kirk.”

 

Kirk punched the intercom button in the middle of the conference table.  “Kirk here.”

 

“Detective, Doctor McCoy has requested your team to meet him at the Medical Examiner’s office.  He’s got another one.”

 

“Thank you, Kirk out.”  He stood and looked at everyone.  “Let’s go.”

 

McCoy met them as they arrived, and led them to the autopsy room.  “You gonna be okay, Jim?”

 

Kirk nodded quickly, then introduced the two consultants.  McCoy got a look on his face like he had something nasty in his mouth.  “Feebs.  Wonderful!”

 

“Let’s keep this professional, Doctor.”  Dehner got her metaphorical claws out and flashed them around.

 

Kirk tried to rein in the animosity.  “Bones.  What have you got for us?”

 

McCoy walked over to the table and pulled back the drape.  “Another kid from White Chapel.  This one is the worst yet.”

 

Kirk looked pale, but held his own.  Both Vulcans were stoic.  Dehner crossed her arms over her chest, and almost smiled.  “As I said earlier: this is the progression.  I was right.”

 

McCoy raised his eyebrows and glanced at Kirk.  Kirk shook his head in a barely perceptible way.  “Whatever,” McCoy continued.  “To reiterate, male sex worker, all four found near their residences in the White Chapel community.  Cause of death: exsanguination via severed carotid and jugular vessels in the neck.  Postmortem mutilation by removal of external genitalia and secondary sexual characteristics.  Two different blades used: a flat blade for the initial injury, a serrated blade to saw off the missing body parts.  Oh, and all four were killed off-site.  There was almost no blood found at the body location.”

 

“Any indication of an act to disable the individuals prior to the killing, Doctor McCoy?  A blow to the head, drugs, stun marks?”  Spock ignored the drama and asked his question.

 

“No drugs in any of the victims.  No sign of any head injury, bruising, broken skin, cracked skull.  I can’t rule out a stun.  I didn’t find any stun marks on the remaining flesh, so there  _could_  have been marks on the parts removed by the killer.”

 

“Fascinating.”  Spock made notes on his datapadd.  “So the unknown subject possibly stuns the victim and moves him to another location, where the killing and mutilation occur.”

 

“Looks that way, yes.”

 

T’Pring tapped her datapadd.  “Stunners and transportation are not inexpensive.  The unknown subject requires either greater wages or some other income, perhaps an inheritance or investments, to afford these means.”

 

Dehner sighed heavily.  “I’ve given you the generalities of the behavioral analysis.  If this were a perfect science, we could just knock on someone’s door and arrest whoever answered it!”

 

“Doctor Dehner, I am speaking from the mathematical point of view.  The statistics are not necessarily supporting your conclusions.”

 

“I’m going back to my office.  Detectives, I want to see your preparation for a decoy by the end of the day.”

 

T’Pring looked at Spock and said so much with a single, raised eyebrow.  Then she, too, left the building.

 

“For Buddha’s sake, Jim, what did you do to earn this torment by the Feds?”

 

“Oh, Bones.  You don’t even know half of it!  You got anything for a headache that isn’t dunked in formaldehyde?”

 

“C’mon, I’ll fix you up.  And how are you today, Spock?”

 

“Doctor.  I admit, I have had better days.”

 

# # #

 

After some heavy-duty arguing, it was decided that Kirk would be the decoy.  Spock was fuming, T’Pring didn’t care, and Dehner just sat behind her desk with that icy smirk on her face.  They planned to go out that night.  Dehner insisted the unsub was going to hit again, very, very soon, and Kirk just wanted to get it over with.

 

As they left Dehner’s office, T’Pring stood in the hallway blocking the two detectives.  “Spock.  I would speak with thee.”  She glared at Kirk.  “Alone.”

 

Kirk gave a weary look.  “Go on ahead, Spock.  I need to stop by our office to pick up a few things, and then I’ll meet you in the parking structure.”

 

Spock nodded to T’Pring, and she preceded him into her office, where she closed the door.  “I am not confident in the analysis performed by Doctor Dehner.  I urge you and your bondmate to exercise extreme caution tonight.”

 

“Why do you have concern?”

 

“The numbers, Spock.  She is drawing illogical conclusions, and the numbers simply do not support her view.  And from what I have seen of the data, she is not using all the factors available to her.  I intend to do my own search of the published studies, and I expect to find omissions by Doctor Dehner.”

 

“I gathered as much from some of the statements you made.”

 

“There is something else.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“She is projecting extreme emotions, beyond anything I have encountered in humans before.  In her mind, she has somewhat allied herself with me, and I have been susceptible to her passionate emanations.  There is something grievously misguided about her, Spock.”

 

“Why are you speaking to me this way?”

 

“I treated you dishonorably.  I know of your bonding with Kirk, and I can sense the peace and compatibility between the two of you.  Doctor Dehner can also sense it, and I believe she somehow targeting you both.”

 

Spock stared at T’Pring for a long time.  “Very well,” he finally spoke.  “I will take your caution into advisement.”  Spock left her office, and T’Pring sat at her desk.  Soon, she wilted, all the Vulcan propriety fading from her carriage, and she placed her head on the desk.

 

Kirk dressed in the turquoise dancing boots, copper-colored jeans, and black skintight T-shirt.  Spock checked out the busted down delivery truck from the motor pool, and they drove to White Chapel that evening.  Spock parked on a side street, and Kirk joined the other sex workers on the stroll.

 

Nothing happened that night.

 

The next night found them down the block.  Kirk had been out for forty-five minutes when Spock saw him follow a woman dressed in fishnets and a big, fuzzy coat.

 

That didn’t feel right.  Spock ran from the truck to the alley, and found nobody there.

 

“Dispatch.  Spock here.  I’ve lost visual on Detective Kirk.”

 

“Roger.  All units on decoy assignment, Detective Kirk is missing.”

 

“Connect me to the Transport Station Management, please.”

 

“Transferring.”

 

“Transport Station.  Michaels speaking.”

 

“This is Detective Spock from Starfleet Criminal Investigation Division .  I need a transponder located, on-planet.”

 

“ID of transponder, please.”

 

Spock rattled off the code.

 

“Found it.  About seven clicks from your location, Detective, in the warehouse district of White Chapel.”

 

“Please hold, Mister Michaels.  This is a priority operation.”  Spock tapped his comm unit.  “Dispatch.  I need armed backup.  I am in communication with Transport Services, and I wish the backup to be transported with me to the objective.”

 

“Dispatch.  Backup is now awaiting transport, Detective.  Good luck.”

 

“Thank you.  Spock out.”  He tapped the comm unit again.  “Mister Michaels.”

 

“Michaels here.”

 

“Please lock on to my signal, and also do a coincidental transport from the Investigation Division main facility.  Beam us to a point 100 meters from the transponder, on my mark.”

 

“Roger.”

 

Spock and five uniformed officers materialized in a warehouse.  Spock signaled, and they spread out and began searching soundlessly.

 

A walled-off area in the corner was originally meant to function as an office.  Inside, an unconscious, stripped Kirk was strapped to a table, and a tall woman in a dark dress and fishnet stockings and ultra-high heels stood over him, babbling.

 

Spock motioned to the officers, and they followed him into the room.  The woman was too engrossed in her one-sided conversation to notice their entry.  “Your fault, you know.  He was ready to propose to me, I know he was, I know he was, and then you showed up in his life.  After you seduced him, lured him away from me, perverted his desires, forced him to rut with you, he just brushed me off.  I held on to hope, that once you finished, after you broke up, he’d come back to me.  I’d make him grovel, I planned on making him beg, but I figured he’d come back.  He loved me, I know he did.  I was destined to be Mrs Gary Mitchell!  But you!  You warped him, Kirk, you and your pretty boy looks and your sick desires.  I tried to talk to Gary, after you left him, but he laughed at me!  He laughed, and said I never did mean anything.  He said you had nothing to do with what he felt, but I know it was you.  I swore my revenge against you someday.  And now you’ve fallen into my trap, and oh, I will make you suffer!”

 

As Elizabeth Dehner raised her arm, the room light reflected along a slender blade.  Spock leaped from his corner, and tackled her to the ground.  The other officers assisted him in disarming Dehner, and put her into restraints.

 

Spock loosened the binding on Kirk, and covered his body with his jacket.  The clothes Kirk had been wearing were piled under the table, and Spock could see they had been destroyed.

 

“Spock to Transport Central.  Emergency beam out of the two at my signal, directly to the Emergency Department.”

 

“Transport Central.  Acknowledge emergency beam out.”

 

Doctor M’Benga confirmed that James Kirk had merely been stunned, and should suffer no ill effects except some minor bruising and nausea for the next 24 hours.  He also had some very superficial scratches from where the clothes had been sliced from his unconscious body.  The wave of a dermal regenerator healed them immediately.

 

Christine Chapel scrounged a scrub suit for Kirk, and M’Benga threw him out of the Emergency Department.  “Go home.  This place is only for sick people.”

 

Spock nodded and said, “Thank you, Doctor.”

 

Kirk flashed his megawatt smile and murmured, “Thanks, Geoff.”

 

Once home, Amanda fussed and fretted, insisting on cooking special foods for Kirk, his favorites.  Sarek shrugged, and told Spock, “It is your mother’s way.”  Spock nodded, secretly wanting to do the same sort of fussing over his bondmate.

 

A hearing determined that Elizabeth Dehner had orchestrated the entire series of killings to target James Kirk.  She had known Gary Mitchell before he had become involved with a young Kirk when they were both enrolled at Starfleet Academy.  She blamed the waning of Gary’s interest in her on Kirk’s influence, and carried that resentment throughout her adult life.  She fashioned the killings on the historical accounts of Jack the Ripper, targeting male prostitutes instead.  Then she set up the Federation Bureau of Investigation task force, with herself in charge, to guarantee that Kirk would be involved in a decoy operation.

 

As she came closer to the fruition of her life-long revenge, her mental processes began breaking down.  The FBI had also thrown a twist into her plans by insisting that Scientist T’Pring be included to conduct statistical analyses as necessary.  Spock had been impressed with T’Pring’s sincerity when she told him of her concerns, and he prepared.  A tiny transponder unit was inserted into the heel of one of Kirk’s turquoise boots.

 

Sarek, Amanda, Kirk, and Spock sat with their after-dinner drinks following an impressive vegetarian meal at one of Alpha Centauri’s finest restaurants.  Kirk shook his head.  “I don’t think I’ll want to dress up and go dancing for a while, Spock.”

 

“Understandable.  I must inform you, though, that you will need to wear formal attire on December twenty-fifth.”

 

“What?  Why?”

 

“You and I have an appointment.”

 

“For what?”

 

“I cannot say at this time.”

 

Kirk looked first at Amanda, then at Sarek.  Sarek was his usual stoic self.  Amanda merely looked wide-eyed and said nothing.  “Something is going on,” Kirk muttered.

 

“Simply be ready in formal attire by ten AM on December twenty-fifth, and I shall take you to our appointment.”

 

“Spock!”

 

“Until then.”

 

Kirk nagged, begged, pleaded, pouted, tantrummed, and even asked politely.  Spock refused to say another word.  Kirk tried to give Spock the cold shoulder, but somehow at night he still ended up wrapped around Spock in bed, giving and receiving blissful kisses, and making love until they fell asleep together.

 

The morning of the 25th, Kirk bathed and groomed carefully, and dressed in his nicest suit.  Spock waited in the living room, and smiled without smiling as he led him to their aircar.  Not one word was said until Spock parked next to the Alpha Centauri Federation Courthouse.  “Come with me,” was all Spock uttered.  Kirk fell into step next to him, and they walked together to the office door of Judge Nyota Uhura.

 

Kirk frowned at Spock, as Spock knocked on the door.

 

Nyota opened it with a huge smile, and ushered them into her spacious office, where they were met by McCoy, Christine Chapel, Geoff M’Benga, as well as Sarek and Amanda.  Spock led Kirk to the center of the room, and everyone arranged themselves around the couple.  In her judge robes, Nyota stood in front of the couple.

 

“Please join hands.”

 

Spock reached for Kirk’s hand, and with his eyes, smiled directly into Kirk’s heart.

 

Nyota opened a small book, and cleared her throat.  “We are all gathered here today, to join this couple in the bonds of matrimony.  Throughout our common history, societies have had rituals to bind two people together who desired to share their lives.  The ceremonies have been religious, formal, casual, sometimes merely legal, but the goal was always the same.  Two individuals would become as one.”  She looked up from the book.  “Who stands with James Kirk?”

 

“I do,” McCoy said, gruffly.

 

“Who stands with Spock?”

 

“I do,” intoned Sarek.

 

“And sometimes the old words are the best: James, you are with Spock.  Will you love him, honor him, cherish him?”

 

Kirk had to swallow twice before he could get the words out.  “I will.”

 

“Spock, you are with James.  Will you love him, honor him, cherish him?”

 

“I will.”

 

“James, do you take Spock, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?”

 

“I do.”

 

Spock, do you take James, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?”

 

“I do.”

 

“You have rings?”

 

“Yes.”  Spock pulled a double ring box out of his pocket, and handed it to Uhura.

 

She opened the box, pulled out a band, and handed it to Spock.  “Place this on James’s finger.”  Spock slid the ring on Kirk’s left hand.  “The ring is a circle, symbolic of love.  It has no beginning, no end, and like your love, is meant to be everlasting.  Do you accept this ring, James?”

 

“I do.”

 

Uhura held out the second band to Kirk.  “Place this on Spock’s finger.”  Kirk noticed the bands were engraved with the IDIC symbol, and he smiled.  “Spock, do you accept this ring from James?”

 

“I do.”

 

“The giving and receiving of rings is symbolic of the pledge that Spock and James have made to each other, in the presence of these witnesses.  By the power vested in me by Starfleet and the Federation of Planets, I hereby pronounce these two are married!”

 

Spock extended two fingers in the  _oz’esta_  towards Kirk.  He matched it with his own.  As they touched fingers, Spock leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips, like a mere brush of a butterfly’s wing.  The room erupted in cheers and backslapping and hugs and kisses.

 

Kirk was more than a little stunned by it all.  In the aircar on the way home, he shook his head, all the while staring at his new ring.  “What got in to you, Spock?”

 

In the privacy of their car, Spock smiled.  “I want us to celebrate the Winter Holiday in our home, together, Jim.  Always.  I want you to enjoy a home and happy memories.  We now have our own reason to remember December twenty-fifth.”

 

“Damn you, you emotional Vulcan!  You’re making me cry!”

 

Spock grabbed Kirk’s hand, and interlaced their fingers as he squeezed tightly.  “I cherish thee, Jim.”

 

“I love you too, Spock.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final installment of the "AU Detectives" stories. Thank you for joining on the ride through my imagination. I do appreciate you reading this, and there is a bowl of chocolate foil-wrapped Santas next to the door. Pick up a few on your way out!


End file.
